Hotel O

How does he know?

I never said a word. Didn’t mention our conversations, the chat, my name. Anything.

Yet he realized it’s me.

Shit.

I didn’t mean to lie to his face. I just didn’t know how to tell him that it was me. Like, who does that? I know what I did was wrong, and I feel so embarrassed right now. Fuck.

I try to turn around to face him, but he pushes me against the door and places a hand beside my head, trapping me in his arms. He’s so close; I can feel his breath on my skin.

“You thought I wouldn’t notice?” he asks, and I hear him sniff. “I can smell your perfume …”

My whole body erupts in goose bumps as he inhales.

I know it was wrong. I know. I just … couldn’t fucking stop myself. God, I should’ve left when I still had the chance.

“I didn’t mean to—” I mumble.

“Lie,” he interrupts. “You had every intention to make me believe your little charade, whatever it is you were doing to get close. But it was too obvious when you didn’t even know what you were doing.”

“I’m sorry,” I mutter, shaking my head, wishing I could take back what I just did.

Why did I even go along with his questionnaire? I should’ve just said it was me and stopped the whole thing. But I didn’t because I didn’t even know how without sounding like an idiot.

“Don’t say that. We both know you aren’t sorry you did it. You’re just sorry you got caught,” he says, laughing softly. “But I don’t mind.”

I gasp as he places a hand on my shoulder and spins me around on my feet, forcing me to look at him. Making me face the man who could make me fall to my knees and beg. Without the mask, he’s even more handsome than I could’ve imagined.

“How did you find me?” he asks.

“The window,” I say in a single breath. “I saw it in the picture.” His voice makes me do things. Makes me … compliant. Makes me admit everything.

He turns his head and gazes at it before looking at me again. “Ahh … the flag.”

I nod, trying to hide my embarrassment behind my hair, but it’s no use. I know he can see it … and he’s grinning too.

“You shouldn’t have,” he says. “I never said you could.”

“I know. I just couldn’t …” I lower my head, ashamed of my actions.

I know it’s stupid. Silly. Childish.

“You knew it was wrong, but you did it anyway.” With the tip of his finger, he lifts my chin. “Without my permission.”

“I’m sorry. I’m normally never like this.”

He doesn’t respond; he just keeps staring me down.

Fuck. I don’t want him to be mad at me, but I know I royally screwed up. I need to make this right. “I’ll do whatever you want me to do.”

His lips twitch, and he narrows his eyes. “No … you won’t.”

“You know why I’m here,” I say, trying my best.

“This goes against all the rules,” he scoffs.

“I don’t care,” I say. I just don’t want this to end.

“Watch it.” He raises a finger, placing it against my lips. “You don’t want to go down that road.”

I narrow my eyes. “Is that a threat?”

I wonder what he means by that.

“Maybe.” His head tilts slightly. “Would it stop you from trying?”

I raise a brow, a smile spreading on my lips. “Maybe … or maybe not. Depends on what’s going to happen.”

Yep. I just couldn’t stop my mind from going there.

He sighs and shakes his head, rubbing his forehead with his thumb and index finger. “This was a big mistake, Kitten.”

“But you knew it was me. That has to mean something,” I say, leaning forward and placing my hand on his chest. He recognized me. That means he kept an image of me in his mind. “Do you still think of me? Of that night?”

He makes a tsk sound but doesn’t say another word. It’s almost as if he’s trying to deflect whatever it is that makes him feel this way.

I inch closer, but he shoves me back against the door and says, “You don’t know what you’ve done. How dangerous this is.”

“Why?” I ask, my tongue dipping out to wet my lips, which he obviously sees because he’s following my every move. “Are you scared you’re going to want me again?”

The electricity between us is undeniable. The sparks literally fly through the air. Why won’t he acknowledge that? What is he so afraid of?

“I’m not scared of anything,” he says through gritted teeth, but he’s still holding me, still clenching, refusing to let go. In fact, his face is closer to me than it ever was. Almost close enough … to kiss.

I know he wants to. I can see it in the way his lips part when mine do, how his eyes keep zooming in on every inch of my skin as though he wants to lick it.